"Are you sure?" The late morning sun streamed through my lacy curtains. Johnny nodded at me, shrugged into his jean jacket.
"They won't yell at you, I swear. They'll yell at me when you're gone,"
He found his sneakers and slipped into them, looked up at me from under his bangs.
"No. You don't need to get yelled at cause of me,"
He came over to me, put his hands on my shoulders, and kissed me. I didn't want him to leave.
"Hey, I'll see you soon, okay?"
I nodded at him. He climbed out my window onto the roof and then down the fire escape. I watched him tuck his hands in his pockets and walk off toward the North side. It was so far away but he said he didn't mind. He walked all the time.
x…….x……..x………x……….x……………..x…………….x…………….x
Saturday morning. My parents were having brunch, pancakes and fruit, our maid unobtrusively refilling coffees.
"Cherry dear, did you have fun last night?" My mother said this and lit one of her long brown cigarettes and puffed delicately, blew the smoke toward my face. They smelled faintly of mint. She bought them at some ritzy place in New York City.
"Yes, actually, I did," My mother nodded at me and my father rattled his paper. It occurred to me again how mad they would be if they knew I'd snuck off with Johnny and spent the night in bad neighborhoods. It was stupid. They liked Bob and would dislike Johnny for all the wrong reasons.
And already I wanted to see him again, wanted to watch him duck his head, look at me from the corners of his eyes.
I sighed. I couldn't. We weren't in the same world. It was just one night, not really a part of my life but something outside it. Today I'd have to go back to Bob and all his money, all his bad habits.
x…………x……………x………………x……………x………….x……….x………..x
"I think they're mad," Marcia sipped her coke. We were at a diner, all smooth counters and leather seats. I sipped my coke.
"Of course they're mad,"
"But not at us. At those greasers we were with. I think they're going to go after them,"
"I wouldn't doubt it," I knew I got a glassy, distant expression. I thought of Johnny walking home, hands tucked in his pockets.
"So where'd you sneak off to last night?" Marcia's eyes sparkled like she knew exactly what I'd done.
"Oh, you know," Vague. I usually was one to kiss and tell. Marcia knew every detail of what went on with me and Bob, and George before him, and David. But somehow I didn't want to tell her much about Johnny.
"What about you?"
She smiled, twirled a strand of dark hair around her index finger.
"What? Did you hook up with that kid with the sideburns? What was his name?"
"Two bit," she said, her voice almost shy. I had to smile. Marcia never looked like that when we talked about Randy.
The bells near the door tinkled and we both looked up. A tall blond boy in a leather jacket strolled in. I stared at his hair, nearly white it was so blond, and his narrowed pale blue eyes.
"Dallas Winston," Marcia whispered and of course it was, how could I not have known? He looked up and saw us, his gaze focused on my red hair. He came over, a slow smile spreading on his face.